When Love Shuts the Door
by Dark Child Productions
Summary: When love shuts the door, you go through the window, right? Now, love's taken extra precaution and has padlocks. See what happens as the next generation of Hogwarts’ most hopeless couples falls in, runs away from, and crashes head first... into love.


**A/N: **I posted the first chapter of this story a while ago, and I felt the need to fix some spelling errors, etc. I do have another chapter ready to post, but I WANT SOME REVIEWS FIRST!  
Several people have put me on author and/or story alert, but I have not received any reviews or feedback. Please, write SOMETHING to me!

**Infantile love follows the principle: "I love because I am loved."  
Mature love follows the principle: "I am loved because I love."  
Immature love says: "I love you because I need you."  
Mature love says: "I need you because I love you."**

**-Erich Fromm**

James Potter impatiently tapped his feet at the spectacle taking place before him. It was September First and he was dangerously straddling the doors of the Hogwarts Express as his mother got in her last hug, one foot lowered onto the concrete floor, and one foot so close to freedom inside the train. He was still in his mother's embrace when he first saw _her_.

Looking over his mother's shoulders he saw that she was tall and slender, with dark blonde hair that fell past her shoulders. She seemed to float as she carried her trunk to the very door that he was blocking.

Abruptly, he tore himself from his mother's arms. He couldn't let the newest love of his life see him for the first time in the arms of his mother. Ginny Potter gave him an annoyed look as she slid back to wave at her other children. Her oldest son turned without another word to welcome his long-awaited Seventh Year.

"Honestly Fred, you should know better!" He heard his cousin Rose shout. She must have caught him handing out chocolates from a Skiving Snackbox to a first year. Her dark, reddish-brown hair seemed to take on a life of its own as her anger increased.

"Oh Rose, Come off it! The pustules will go away in thirty minutes!" He laughed, pulling James toward the first empty compartment he saw. James looked back for his mystery woman one last time as the door closed.

"That shiny prefect badge has gone to her head if you ask me. Let's hope your brother's not next." Fred said as brown eyes lit up. James studied his best friend and cousin. It was often hard to find physical similarities between the Fred sitting before him and his namesake or father, (Fred had a mop of curly brown hair on his head and not a Weasley freckle in sight) but when he laughed a clear outline of his father's face could be seen.

"Knock, knock." Fred said as he sat up straighter, imitating his no-nonsense cousin in a high-pitched voice.

"Who's there?" James said, taking the bait.

"Fuck."

"Fuck who?"

"No, it's 'fuck _whom_.'" The two boys laughed as the train rolled north, and James temporarily forgot about the gorgeous girl on platform 9 ¾.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in a meeting that she had been called to by the headmaster. It was an open meeting, but she was required to be there to help Headmaster Ainsworth with deliberations as deputy headmistress. Her choice to step down from the Head post was prompted by the promise of retirement, but was still met with much controversy. Currently, there was a discussion on the pros and cons of putting on a Christmas pantomime. Those in attendance had been there for nearly an hour, and nothing had been accomplished yet.

The headmaster was currently looking out the window, and hadn't moved a muscle for five full minutes. "He's really torn by this one," Flitwick muttered "I've never seen him this deep in thought." Dependable old Filius. She would miss him the most of the remaining faculty, though his own retirement could not be far behind.

Another five minutes passed, and the school's highest ranking faculty members looked on nervously as he continued to stand perfectly still. Eventually, the headmaster motioned for everyone in the room to gather around the window. "See that Cornish Pixie over there?" he asked, pointing. "It hasn't flinched for more than ten minutes. I do believe it's dead."

This was going to be a long day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I still think that you're making this whole prefect thing into a big deal." Albus said, his emerald eyes flashing with slight annoyance at Rose.

"Nonsense Al! We are, at present, embarking on the same path that our parents did! Don't you feel closer to them already?"

"Neither of my parents were prefects, remember?" Albus supplied. It was nice that his hard work and sense of responsibility had caught the eye of his superiors, but other than that, he saw very little else that was good about being a prefect.

Rose moved with her cousin toward their first official prefect meeting (they had had a brief one on the train). To Albus, her kind and easy-going cousin, there was nothing special about what they were doing, but to Rose it felt like every step they took to the special room on the fourth floor was magical. They had begun walking the same path that only a special minority in Hogwarts history ever had the privilege of walking.

"Hey! Scorpius!" Rose was broken from her reverie by her cousin's greeting. Dark met fair as the two friends embraced each other.

"Rose." He nodded curtly. "How was your summer, Albus?" Rose attempted to block out their salutations. What her cousin saw in Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy she would never know. In her opinion, the youngest Malfoy heir had a habit of walking with his nose a little too high in the air and he often spoke down to people.

Open hostilities buried, the three prefects of Gryffindor, Gryffindor, and Slytherin entered the room where meetings were held. The room was everything that Rose had imagined, from the large blue, gold, emerald, and scarlet tapestries that hung on the wall to the warm smell of new books that filled the air. All twenty-four of the school's prefects, plus the head boy and girl sat down, with no one being late.

"Hello, students." welcomed Professor McGonagall, organizer of Hogwarts' student leadership. Immediately, she went into a routine speech about responsibility and the excitement of a new year. Eventually though, her speech took a turn for the unexpected:

"And now, students, Professor Gaertner has a few words to share with you." Heads turned as one teacher yielded the floor to another. On the surface, Soras Gaertner, astronomy professor, seemed to be the exact opposite of Minerva McGonagall. She had flowing blond hair where McGonagall's was graying and her face was rarely without a smile, whereas McGonagall's face was usually plagued with wrinkles due to the many needs and nuisances of her pupils. Most of the people in the room, on the other hand, knew that however dithery Gaertner might seem, behind her blue eyes laid a wealth of knowledge.

"'Allo students!" She bursted. "This year, ve vill shake things up a bit, ya! Vhen I was taking a break from my studies to travel Europe, my most memorable experience in Britain was the Christmas pantomime that I vatched. So, I have talked to ze headmaster about instituting a pantomime tradition right here at Hogvarts!"

How odd. Fortunately someone spoke up before she did.

"Excuse me, Professor, but aren't plays and panto's banned at this school?" It was her older cousin and Head Girl, Dominque.

"Vell, yes." She said, answering the question. "But quite recently I haf gotten special permission from ze headmaster to put on a specific performance." She added a dramatic pause. "Come Christmas time, we will put on a play entitled_: Umbridge: The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts_." The blond teacher eagerly awaited the students' reactions.

"Sorry, Professor, but aren't pantomimes usually comedies? Everything that I've heard about Delores Umbridge suggests that she was times at Hogwarts during her reign were anything but laughable." Rose said. Around her she could hear murmurs of agreement.

"That's not completely true, Rose! Every cloud has a silver lining. In that year, Harry Potter formed ze Dumbledore's Army, no? Also, Veasley Vizard Vheezes, now a major company, got it's start right here at Hogvarts. I think that sometimes you've got to poke fun at something in order for a healing process to begin."

"Professor, My father was tortured by that woman." Albus supplied, trying to keep calm. "He still has the scars to prove it! Professor McGonagall, surely you can't be agreeing to this!"

The aging professor's lips turned from an impassive streak into a rigid line. Half-heartedly attempting to seem unbiased, she said "I have spoken to the headmaster about the matter," she started "and I assure you that nothing can be done to… dissuade him."

"Okay, professor." Scorpius said, attempting to give an unbiased perspective. "Say that in your infinite wisdom, you decide to go through with this plan of yours. As Albus said, this woman abused many of her students, and her tenure here has been deemed one of the most dismal years in Hogwarts' history, behind the one in which the Dark Lord was defeated. If you go around making a cheery song and dance out of it, at the very least you'll have some very unhappy alumni to deal with. I have to advise against it."

Rose's dark brown eyes met his cool grey ones in a brief and reluctant moment of gratitude as his words sunk in throughout the room.

Meanwhile, Gaertner's happy exterior was fading. She clearly did not want to publicly accept the guidance of a fifteen-year-old boy.

"Zis is not up for discussion!" she exclaimed. "Ze reason zat I brought this before the Board of Prefects was because I vant you to help me organize ze production." As she began to allot jobs by year, Rose heard Albus groan so that only she and Scorpius could hear him.

He had been looking forward to just patrolling the halls once a week.

As the three prefects exited the room, Albus raised a dark eyebrow in her general direction. "Still think prefect duty will help us live up to our parents?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You've got to be kidding me." Neville Longbottom, also known as Professor Longbottom said incredulously when Rose and Albus spilled the beans about the Christmas pantomime.

"I wish we were, Uncle." Albus said solemnly.

"I'm shocked that Ainsworth even considered it. Honestly!"

"I'm not. Before Clarence Ainsworth was appointed headmaster by the Board of Governors, he worked for the Ministry, remember?" Professor Longbottom said, responding to Rose's outburst.

"Yeah, in the Improper Use of Magic Office. He took on the head job after Mafalda Hopkirk."

"Professor, are you implying that Headmaster Ainsworth is purposely trying to make light of the year Umbridge taught here in order to paint the Ministry in a more positive light? To make people forget about all of the terrible things that woman did with their permission?"

"That's exactly what I'm implying." He said, as they came to the very wall where so many of Delores Umbridge's decrees had once hung. The only sign that was there now was brightly colored and said:

Coming before Christmas! Umbridge: The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts  
Auditions starting next week.

His face was clouded by a look of brutal nostalgia as he looked over it.

"Because there's no better way to ensure that people forget something than by commemorating it."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

**A/N:** So there you have it! The start to a story that I am very excited about. Like I said, this is my first romance, so if you could give me some feedback, that would be great!

And yes, Prof Gaertner has a terrible German accent.


End file.
